


Blue Bird

by molmcmahon



Series: Female Harry Potter Femslash Pairings [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don’t copy to another site, F/F, Female Harry Potter, Future Fic, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Veela Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 23:41:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molmcmahon/pseuds/molmcmahon
Summary: To celebrate the end of the Others, Queen Daenerys I Targaryen and King Jon Targaryen attend a northern wedding before heading south.





	Blue Bird

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own either HP or GoT. They belong to JK Rowling and GRR Martin respectively.

                                                                        

 

“You look beautiful, Lady Sansa.”

“Thank you, your Grace,” Sansa whispered, leaning down to make sure her white dress was smoothed down. It wasn’t something that Hari had been insistent on but Sansa wanted a traditional northern wedding, even if tradition had flown out the window many times before. And… she wore a Stark cloak over her dress, the fur on edges of the cloak hugging her shoulders.

Daenerys Targaryen stood before her, her lips twitching up into a soft smile. “I was never quite sure that we would make it to this point. After I arrived on the shores of Dragonstone and you and your… friend arriving not too long afterwards. Me, a foreigner who you thought came to tear you and your family even more apart, and you--”

Sansa returned the Queen’s smile. “I am sure we made a formidable sight. Hari, with her wings out, and me with my cloak on.”

“That cloak was your armor even then,” Daenerys remarked, closing the distance between them and helping her smooth her dress down. “You did a wonderful job with the stitching. My dragons and I would not have stood a chance if Hari decided that I was a threat.”

“No, you wouldn’t have but we needed you. The North needed you.”

“Your lady friend would have figured out a way to defeat the Others, with Bran and Robb. I am glad you came to see me as an ally.”

Sansa dipped her head in a nod, remembering the last few weeks of winter and the fight. “Hari would have or died trying.”

Dany frowned but nodded. “She makes you happy.”

“She does. I love her.”

“I am glad for that. I would hate to see you unhappy. My first ally in the North.”

“You will always be welcome in the North, your Grace. Robb has said as much, I hope?”

“Your brother makes a good king and his wife a good queen. Westeros has changed much since the days of my father. It is a good thing. You will always be welcome in the south, Lady Sansa.”

The roars of the dragons filled the air and then the direwolves joined in. Grey Wind, Summer, Shaggydog and Nymeria. All but Lady. Sansa’s heart ached at the loss and then she sighed, the memories of everything else filling her mind. Everything that had come after.

“Lady Sansa, it is not a good thing to be sorrowful on a wedding day.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Especially not since it is the first one I’ve felt happy at since…”

“Since your father died. Since your mother died at the Twins. Be happy, Sansa. We have conquered the winter.”

Sansa nodded, swallowing before steadying her shoulders and looking at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look much like Queen Daenerys Targaryen or Queen Jeyne Stark though, her long auburn hair flowing down her back and loose like her mother’s.

“Besides, you can’t be unhappy. I’m pregnant.”

Sansa blinked and her eyes widened, her lips twitching up into an unbidden smile. “Dany! No upstaging us, alright, your Grace?”

Daenerys grinned and stepped away, walking over to the door. Her white dress was a beautiful one, shades of red and black tinging the edges of the trim. Queen Daenerys Targaryen, the First of Her Name, was a formidable woman and Sansa was proud to call her friend.

“You had best hurry, Lady Sansa. The bells are ringing,” Dany teased. “It’s best not to be late for your wedding.”

“Says the woman who was late for her own wedding.”

“Which one? The one on dragonback or the one in the Sept of Baelor? You look beautiful,” Daenerys reassured her, winking and then stepping out the door and into the courtyard of Winterfell.

Sansa smiled at her friend’s back and then nodded to herself. She stepped out into the courtyard too, wanting to see what her lover looked like. The sun hadn’t shown itself for a while but there were little, small hints of spring around the castle. A little blue sky peaked through the rain clouds, enough to sweep the rain away for an afternoon.

Buckbeak greeted her with a loud chirp, galloping over to sniff her dress. The hippogriff bent his head and butted her gently, making her laugh. She gently pushed him away, stroking his feathers and feeling the warmth radiating from his flank. They had almost lost him during the last fight against the Others, had almost lost Hari’s companion. Buckbeak had been badly injured defending her when she had gotten cornered by one of the Others, had kept them away from her until Arya had poked it with her dragonglass enhanced Needle.

Buckbeak’s wings were pinned to his sides with bandages, the vulnerable bones kept in place to heal. Hari had had to use most, if not, all of her magic to heal others, to heal the Queen, Robb, Arya, the wolves and the dragons afterward. Sansa had helped to patch up Buckbeak after the fight, being only one of the few people that the creature trusted.

“Buckbeak, don’t get my dress dirty.”

“You look pretty, Sansa.”

“Thank you, Arya,” Sansa whispered, looking over her sister as she walked up to her. Needle was at her waist, as it had been since the last fight against the Others. Sansa could see Gendry over in the forge, working away on shaping some new weapons for those that had been lost. Arya turned to follow Sansa’s gaze and sighed as she stared at the man. “He is handsome.”

Arya made a low noise of consideration under her breath and Sansa raised an eyebrow. Robb was in the forge with Gendry, talking to him while he worked, and Sansa’s heart clenched as she looked over at her brother. Hari had saved Robb’s life more than once throughout the past few years and saved Grey Wind as well.

The only members of House Stark that had not come through the War of the Five Kings were Lady Catelyn and Lord Eddard and Lady. Sansa would forever miss her mother and father but she was glad they were together, wherever they were. And she missed Lady so very much too and she suspected that the dreams of her wolf wouldn’t stop. The Night King had attempted to raise the long dead in the last fight but Hari had stopped him from doing so, thankfully.

“Robb, come walk Sansa over to the godswood!” Arya yelled out, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “You’re her brother!”

Robb let out a quiet laugh and turned around to face them, the beginnings of a beard on his face, and a pleased smile on his lips. Jeyne had just given birth to a daughter a week before and they had named the heir to Winterfell, Eddara Stark, a tribute to Ned. “I was not sure whether you would want me, Sansa.”

“You’re my brother, Robb. If… Ned couldn’t… I want you to walk me to the godswood,” Sansa whispered as Robb closed the distance between them. Grey Wind limped over to Robb’s side, from where he had been curled up before the heat of the forge. Grey Wind had sustained a deep injury to his hind left leg, one that would be with him forever, at the Twins a few years ago. Crossbow bolts had pierced the wolf’s bones but Hari had saved him.

“Good. You look beautiful, Sansa,” Robb remarked, holding out his arm to her, which she took. “I am so glad you are happy.”

“I am glad you are happy. Is Jeyne…”

“She was assisting the servants in getting the feast ready,” Robb replied as they walked through the courtyard together. Arya followed them as a shadow passed over them. Drogon flew above the castle, with his brothers, Viserion and Rhaegal flanking him. Hari had said something about finding more dragon eggs for the Queen in the south but she would do that after their wedding and after making sure Moat Cailin was ready for them. “She will be at the wedding, don’t worry. She has appreciated your council so much.”

They stepped into the godswood and Sansa stopped at the entrance, her eyes widening. The godswood glowed with light, multiple witchlights floating in the air that had shadows shaped like stars. The weirwood trees themselves looked beautiful in the magical light, eerie, haunted pillars of the old gods.

So many people were standing before them in two sets, though Sansa couldn’t tell if there was a difference in groups. Queen Daenerys Targaryen, with her consort Jon Targaryen, formerly Snow. Lord Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the Queen. Lady of Tarth Brienne, with her husband and consort, Jaime Lannister. Grey Worm, with Missandei. Queen Jeyne Stark, with her newborn babe in her arms. Bran Stark. Rickon Stark. Osha. Varys. Theon Greyjoy. Jeyne Poole. Yara Greyjoy. The new ruling Princess Arianne Martell of Dorne and Daemon Sand. Ellaria Sand. Margaery Tyrell. Olenna Tyrell. Willas Tyrell and Allyria Dayne. Podrick Payne. Shireen Baratheon. Trystane Martell. Myrcella Baratheon. The newly named Harrold Arryn and Mya Arryn, formerly Stone.

And Hariel Potter at the front of the group, standing right before the heart tree. Her soon to be wife looked radiant and possibly slightly glowing. Sansa’s heart skipped a beat at the sight and then started to race, her shoulders loosening and exhaling on a deep sigh.

Hari wore a red dress, one that was thick enough to keep her warm in the weather. The dress had a lion stitched into it, not a golden one for House Lannister, but a green one, for the two houses that she was most like from her school Hogwarts. Slytherin and Gryffindor. There was a hint of her wings underneath the cloak, tiny little twitches under the fabric that made Sansa’s lips twitch up into a small smile.

Hari’s light green eyes lit up at Sansa’s appearance, her dark hair unruly even after she had run a brush through it. Sansa’s stomach roiled at the thought of another wedding but with one look at her future wife, her body relaxed and settled. Robb squeezed her hand in reassurance as he walked her up, leaving her to stand next to Hari.

The King in the North now stood before them, in their father’s place, and Sansa trembled, tears pooling in her eyes. Queen Daenerys Targaryen walked up and stood by Robb, winking at her.

“Who has come to the heart tree to be wed?” Robb questioned, lowering his voice as people quieted down.

“Hariel Potter.”

“Sansa Stark.”

“And who is giving Lady Potter away?”

“I am,” Daenerys answered, dipping her head in Hari’s direction. Viserion roared overhead and landed on the castle wall behind them, his wings large things that shadowed the godswood even more. “In lieu of her family.”

“Do you, Lady Potter, accept your wife?” Robb continued, smiling at them both.

“I do,” Hari murmured, smiling wider.

“Then join hands and kneel.”

Sansa peered over to where Hari was next to her and reached out, her fingers stretching towards Hari’s. Hari reached back, entwining their fingers. Hari’s heat radiated from her and Sansa squeezed Hari’s fingers, smiling at her wife before kneeling as two women. They bent their heads for a moment of quiet prayer, as silence filled the godswood. Hari had seen Robb wed Jeyne so she had seen a northern wedding before but Sansa still had had to fill her lover in on what would happen.

The godswood remained quiet for another moment and then Sansa and Hari rose as one, two women who had been through hell together. They rose looking at each other, with nothing tearing her gaze away from Hari’s eyes. Hari’s green eyes were filled with so much love that Sansa shivered underneath them, her lips twitching up into a grin as Arya handed over a new cloak.

Sansa held onto the cloak that she had stitched and created over the last few days, a Stark cloak for her wife. The cloak was exactly like Sansa’s own, lined with wolf fur and warm under the winter sky. Sansa closed the distance between them, seeing Hari dip down in a half bow, and removed the cloak that her wife wore, replacing it with the Stark cloak.

Hari stood back up, a Stark now and forever. Lady Hariel Stark, of Moat Cailin. Hari grinned, tugging the Stark cloak tighter around her shoulders and then tugged Sansa into a kiss, her fingers cupping her cheeks and pressing her lips to hers. Sansa shuddered and melted into the kiss, wrapping her own arms around Hari’s, letting out a strangled groan.

Cheering and whistling finally piereced the fog of her mind and Sansa blushed, seeing Robb smile and Daenerys grin. Yara and Arya were wolf whistling and Arianne winked at her.

“Lady Sansa Stark…” Hari whispered, her voice low and husky with pleasure. “My wife.”

“Lady Hariel Stark,” Sansa murmured back, taking Hari’s hands as they dropped.

“My wolf,” Hari spoke, an amused grin on her face before her arms went around Sansa and picked her up in one move.

Sansa yelped, throwing her arms around Hari’s neck and trusting her new wife to hold her. “Hari! I said we didn’t have to do this!”

“I know.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and held on even tighter, seeing Robb, Arya, Bran and Rickon start to laugh. “Marauder.”

“You got me,” Hari whispered back, her voice low with love. Her blue wings twitched under her new cloak and Sansa already knew Hari didn’t particularly like heavy things on her back but with the way that Hari had tightened the cloak around her shoulders… She wasn’t going to take the cloak off for a while.

“To the feast!” Tyrion shouted, dry amusement in his voice. “Enough of this!”

“They’re adorable,” Arianne remarked, winking up at Sansa and then turning to look at Daemon.

“This isn’t Dorne,” Brienne said, shrugging and smiling at them. “Congratulations, Lady Sansa.”

“It isn’t Dorne but still…” Ser Jaime trailed off, leering suggestively at Brienne. “We’ve done it many places in Winterfell.”

Brienne snorted and Bronn, next to her, rolled his eyes.

Grey Wind, Nymeria, Shaggydog and Summer all raised their heads and howled, joined by the dragons. The Ladies of Moat Cailin were greeted by a ray of sun as Lady Hariel Stark carried her new wife out of the godswood and into the great keep for the feast.

 


End file.
